


A Lovely Trick

by PhryneFicathon, RubyCaspar



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-10 18:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13507092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhryneFicathon/pseuds/PhryneFicathon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyCaspar/pseuds/RubyCaspar
Summary: Jack ponders his options two days after the airfield.





	A Lovely Trick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LarkAscending](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarkAscending/gifts).



Three days.

Not even three days. _Two-and-a-half_ days. Two-and-a-half days since Jack had stood on that airfield and watched her fly away from Melbourne - from Australia - from him. Two-and-a-half days since he had kissed her. Since she had kissed him back. Two-and-a-half days since she had teased him with those words.

_Come after me, Jack Robinson_. As if it were that easy.

Two-and-a-half days. It felt like a lifetime.

Jack shook his head at himself as he cleared up the remnants of his simple supper. When had he gotten so dramatic? Still.... it did feel longer than that. He missed her, physically, felt it like an ache in his chest. It was ridiculous, really - even recently, as they’d grown closer and closer, it was rare for him to see her more often than once a week or so, unless they were working a case. Two-and-a-half days should feel like nothing.

Instead it felt like everything.

The difference, of course, was that with every passing minute she was moving further away from him. Every minute meant miles of distance, distance that would take him weeks, maybe months to make up.

_Come after me, Jack Robinson_.

He’d thought of little else since she’d left. Could he do it? He could ask for extended leave… he’d taken so little time off since the war, his superiors probably wouldn’t begrudge him. He had some savings… it would take most of what he had, and the trip wouldn’t be the lap of luxury, but he could make it to London and back. But it would take a long time, and by the time he got there…

It wasn’t that he _doubted_ her exactly, just that... well, he didn’t want to hold her to something said in the heat of the moment. It wouldn’t be fair on either of them. No… it would be far more prudent to wait for her to come back, and if she still wanted him…

But why would she want someone who didn’t care enough to try for her? What if this was his one chance?

The same argument had been running through his mind for the two-and-a-half days since she’d left, and he’d gotten no closer to finding an answer. He had a meeting with the Deputy Commissioner at the end of the week to discuss staffing, and it would be an ideal time to bring up the possibility of taking extended leave. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. He could always just not take it.

Though then the Deputy Commissioner would think him an indecisive fool.

Jack threw himself into his armchair with a groan and stretched out an arm to grab a tumbler and a bottle of whisky from his drinks trolley. He poured a measure and took a sip, wincing when the taste only reminded him of her, dozens of nightcaps over dozens of nights flashing before his eyes.

Who was he kidding? Of course he was going after her. He’d been doing so for a year without her saying anything - he was hardly going to cool his heels now after she’d actually asked him to do so.

Jack grinned, a warm feeling of excitement replacing the doubt that had been eating at his insides. So what if it turned out badly? He’d much rather regret something he did than something he didn’t do. He settled back in the chair, thinking that he’d go down to the docks and inquire about getting to London first thing the next day.

He was just taking another - far more enjoyable - sip of his whisky, when there was a knock on his front door. Jack startled, and stared at the door for a moment, before rolling his eyes and knocking back the rest of the whisky. It had been a while since one of his constables had come to his home instead of just telephoning, but it happened - usually because they realised only after arriving at a crime scene that they needed his presence. He heaved himself out of the armchair and quickly crossed the room, reaching it just as there came another, firmer knock.

Sparing a thought for his loosened tie, rolled up sleeves and discarded jacket, Jack threw back the bolt and opened the door.

Phryne Fisher was on his doorstep.

For a split second, Jack thought that he was hallucinating - she was wearing the same outfit as she had at the airfield, and when he opened the door the smile she gave him was just as wide and playful as it had been then. However, he was quick to note the differences - a different blouse, a different scarf (though with the brooch he’d given her still pinned in pride of place), and a small leather bag in her hands.

Jack stared at her.

“Good evening, Jack,” she said brightly. She took a step forward and Jack automatically took one back - she took it as an invitation and brushed past him into the house. Jack’s hand tightened on the door handle but other than that and his head moving to keep watching her, he didn’t move.

She put down the bag and started to peel off her gloves. “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, Jack,” she said, “but Dot and Hugh are at Wardlow and I didn’t want to disturb them.” She reached out a bare hand and placed it on his chest, and then took a step closer. “I thought that _you_ might not mind the intrusion…”

Jack closed the door.

Phryne raised an eyebrow at him. “I suppose you want to know how I came to be here and not on a plane?”

Jack took a step towards her - she didn’t step back. Phryne stroked her fingers over his waistcoat and smiled up at him knowingly. “Well, we were about four hours out of Melbourne when -”

Jack cupped the back of her head with his right hand, pulled her to him and kissed her. Just like at the airfield her body swayed into his, seeming to melt against him, but this time she pressed closer, her hands slipping around his body to clutch at his back and keep him against her, as though there were anywhere else he wanted to be. He slipped his free arm around her waist and stepped forward, pressing her back against the wall. She made a sound like a whimper that had Jack growling in the back of his throat. He felt Phryne smile against his lips and he kissed her harder, as much to feel her smile as to wipe it off her face.

By the time they pulled apart, chests heaving, one of Phryne’s legs was hitched up round his hip, and he had a hand under her blouse, stroking the bare skin of her back. Jack pressed his forehead against hers, and she stroked a finger along his jawline.

“I suppose I could tell you about it later,” she said.

Jack smirked and nodded. “Later.”

 

 

_A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous --Ingrid Bergman_


End file.
